


Kal AU: Kal Has a Goal

by wheel_pen



Series: Alice [34]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Naughtiness, Red Kryptonite, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:51:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU subseries of Alice series. Kal is smarter than he looks. Which definitely doesn’t mean he’s nicer. This story is unfinished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kal AU: Kal Has a Goal

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Alice, my original female character, is new in Smallville. There is something special about her, and she and Clark form a relationship.
> 
> 2\. This series starts after the end of the second season—after the destruction of the spaceship and Clark abruptly leaving town.
> 
> 3\. Underage warning: This story may contain human or human-like teenagers, in high school, in sexual situations.
> 
> 4\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            People thought that Kal wasn’t determined, that he couldn’t _focus_ on a goal long enough to accomplish it. He didn’t mind that perception—but it was wrong. It was just that most of the goals people thought he should be accomplishing were d—n boring. And Kal had a very low tolerance for boredom.

            When he saw something that he really wanted, however, he could be single-minded in his pursuit, and d—n clever, too, if he did say so himself. Alice and the Kents, it seemed, could easily tell him from Clark, just by looking at him—maybe Lex, too, he wasn’t quite sure yet. His impression of the general public, however, was that only Kal’s _behavior_ set him apart from Clark... and that Kal could not, as much as he tried, _really_ behave like Clark well enough to impersonate him. Kal didn’t think this was really true; but he didn’t actually know, never having truly _tried_ to impersonate Clark realistically.

            Today, however, Kal had a goal he wanted. And to accomplish it, he would have to convince someone that he was, in fact, Clark Kent. Someone who knew Clark rather well—or at least, _thought_ she did.

            Kal glanced around to be sure no one was watching, then gave his best Clark Kent grin to his reflection in the window. He looked like an absolute a-s. Even _Clark_ wasn’t that bad. Toning it down a bit, Kal tried again and decided he was pleased with the results. He’d been practicing for several days now, but one more rep never hurt. At least with the warmer weather he didn’t have to suffer through a plaid flannel shirt—a blue t‑shirt was generic and Clark enough. He’d even ditched his boots for some dirty sneakers. Giving himself one more glance to be sure everything was in place, Kal pushed through the door of the Talon.

            Alice had the day off, he knew, and Clark was busy slaving away on the plantation, so there shouldn’t be anyone around who could give away his secret. The coffee shop was crowded, but not with anyone Clark really knew, and that made it even better, really, because she’d be slightly distracted by the customers. Sure enough, as Kal approached the counter, he saw Lana hurriedly loading a tray with coffees and pastries.

            “Hey, Lana,” he said cheerfully. She looked up quickly, flashed a smiled, then looked back at the order in front of her. Kal frowned. Perhaps a gesture was called for. “Here, let me carry that for you, Lana,” he suggested, indicating the tray she was starting to scoot onto her palms.

            “Oh, that’s okay, Clark, thanks.” He narrowed his eyes and surreptitiously hooked one finger over the edge of the tray, making it instantly immobile. Lana tugged carefully at it for a moment.

            “That looks really heavy, Lana,” Kal commented with concern. “You could hurt your wrist or something...”

            Lana tried once more to lift the tray and stared at it with confusion. “Yeah, I guess I kind of overloaded it,” she agreed slowly.

            “Miss!” one of the customers called as if on cue. “Will our drinks be ready soon?”

            “Yes, I’ve got them right here,” Lana told the woman with a tight smile. She gave Kal one of her little crinkle-face smiles. “Maybe just for the first couple stops...”

            He grinned at her, his Clark-is-pleased-to-help-you grin. “Sure thing.” Kal was careful not to make the tray look _too_ light as he lifted it and followed her to the first table, holding it dutifully at unloading level. He ended up following her around the whole shop, handing out drinks and scooping up dirty dishes, until their circuit brought them back to the counter.

            Lana looked at the pile of coffee-encrusted cups on the tray and gave Kal an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Clark, I didn’t mean to turn you into a busboy,” she told him.

            “That’s okay, I don’t mind,” he assured her.

            “Well, here,” Lana continued, digging out a clean cup and the coffee pot. “A cup on the house. Cream and sugar, right?”

            “Right,” Kal agreed, inwardly grimacing as his beautiful black coffee was adulterated with condiments. D—n Clark and his sweet tooth. “So, um, Lana...” he began, dropping his voice a little so she’d have to lean closer. He glanced around, indicating that he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you about something...”

            Lana’s forehead wrinkled in consternation as she looked over the bustling shop. “Well, it’s kind of busy in here right now...”

            “It’s-it’s kind of important...” Kal added hesitantly.

            “Um, well...” Kal looked up at her through thick black eyelashes and saw her melt. Her posture changed as she decided she didn’t need to run off just yet. “Sure, of course. What is it?”

            “Well, the thing is...” He didn’t want to draw her patience for _too_ long, but on the other hand he couldn’t just spit it out. It had to sound _painful_. “Alice and I...” He noted Lana’s sudden tension at the name. “...we broke up.”

            There was a sharp intake of breath, and Kal glanced up into Lana’s shocked brown eyes. “Broke up?” she repeated. He nodded sorrowfully. “W-when did this happen?”

            “A few days ago.” He knew Clark had been busy on the farm a lot lately and hadn’t gotten into town much to hang out with Alice in public.

            “Alice never—I mean, she didn’t say anything...” Lana was pulling back from him a bit, her arms going around herself, and Kal leaned forward to close the gap.

            “The thing is—“ His voice told her he didn’t want anyone else to know what he was about to say, so she had to scoot closer again. “The thing is, I think Alice is kind of—in shock or something. I mean, this has really been building up for a long time, and I think she’s just in... denial.”

            “Denial?” Lana shook her head in disbelief. “You two always seemed so... happy together...” And was there a note of bitterness in that tone? Yes, there was...

            “I guess, um”—Kal smiled at her sheepishly—“I guess we were just good at pretending.” Lana nodded slowly, a rueful smile spreading on her face. She understood that part. “Look, Lana...” Kal turned his head, taking in all the patrons. “I know you’re really busy right now, but I really—I need someone to talk to, and um—someone I care about”—she froze for an instant—“do you think I could come by later, around closing?”

            The instant Lana hesitated showed Kal that she really was, in fact, moved by the possibilities he had presented her with. Then her cool, small hand closed around his on the counter, and she smiled. “Of course, Clark. I’ll wait for you.” Kal smiled gratefully, then got up to leave. How many times had Lana waited for Clark to show up, only to be disappointed? Well, tonight “Clark” wasn’t going to let her down... A very un-Clark-like grin spread across Kal’s face as he left the Talon. Phase One was a success.

 

            It was almost eleven o’clock. Kal had been at the Talon for over an hour, nursing a too-sweet coffee long grown cold, only the lamps over the counter providing a dim light. Mood lighting, he called it. The words had been slow to come out at first, but eventually he had told Lana almost everything—and by everything, he meant every lie and half-truth he’d come up with to explain “his” break-up with Alice.

            He’d done things in Metropolis he wasn’t proud of. He’d been a jerk to Lana, and his other friends, when he came back. He’d latched onto Alice as someone different, someone new, someone no one expected him to be with.

            Lana nodded understandingly at his words. It was as she’d always suspected, of course.

            There was nothing really _wrong_ with Alice, of course. She was a nice girl, a hard worker, Lana knew that. They had a few things in common. But—her attitudes weren’t the same as his. She was too harsh sometimes—for Clark—too bold, too unconcerned with other people. He knew now he needed someone who was more generous, more kind, more sympathetic.

            Lana nodded generously, kindly, sympathetically at his words. Inwardly Kal laughed, because this was after all Lana “Center of the Universe” Lang he was talking to, the girl who rarely saw past her own pert nose.

            “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, Lana,” he finally breathed, as if he were ready to plunge off the high dive. “I’m just so tired of... hiding and hesitating. I _know_ what I want.” He looked her straight in the eye, and she stopped breathing. “I’ve just always been so afraid that if I reached for it—it would melt away.” He reached for Lana’s hand on the counter. “But now I understand that—there are some things I just can’t replace. Some things, there _are_ no substitutes for.” His fingers curved tightly—not _too_ tightly—around hers. “Some things I can’t let go of.”

            She blinked, glanced down at her lap, around at the empty coffee shop, brown eyes moist. “Clark,” Lana finally said, looking back up at him with shaky resolve. “Clark, we’ve been through this before, I don’t think I could—“ She started to pull her hand away, but Kal brought his other one up to clasp it.

            “I know, I know,” he assured her. “Believe me, Lana, I have beat myself up _so_ much, every time you got hurt because I couldn’t be honest with you. About my feelings, about...” He deliberately trailed off, flicking his eyes up to meet hers. “About everything. I don’t want to live like that anymore, Lana. I don’t want people to be hurt because I kept something back from them. Especially you.”

            “Clark, what are you saying?” Her eyes searched his face as if looking for some kind of key to decipher his words.

            Kal looked away, down at their entwined hands, and took a deep breath. “I want to tell you, Lana. I want to tell you everything. You—might not believe it. It sounds so bizarre, but it’s true... I wish it weren’t, but it is.”

            She squeezed his hand tighter and leaned forward. He wondered if, ironically, it was _Lana_ who was more interested in finding out Clark’s big secret than in being with him, as opposed to the investigative pit bull Chloe. “Clark, what are you talking about?”

            He swallowed hard. “The truth is, Lana, I—“ His sensitive hearing picked up a noise at the door and he turned. _S—t!_ “Is that Alice?”

            Lana’s head whipped around as Alice dug for her key in her purse, standing on the sidewalk outside the Talon. “I don’t know what she’s doing here—“

            Kal jumped up from the stool immediately. If Alice spotted him here, he could kiss his plan good-bye. Taking Lana’s arms he pulled her quickly out of Alice’s line of sight, around the corner. “Lana, please, I really need for you to understand this,” he told her hurriedly. “Let’s meet tomorrow night. We’ll go somewhere we won’t be interrupted.”

            “Um, well, sure, Clark,” Lana agreed dazedly, as Alice found her key and unlocked the front door.

            “Good.” He smiled at her quickly, then couldn’t resist leaning down for a kiss. She resisted at first—for about three milliseconds—then her slender fingers were threading through his hair, yanking him closer, and why the h—l did she have to be so short, he was going to pop a vertebrae at this angle. Lana tasted like coffee and cream and strawberries—synthetic strawberries, probably from her lip gloss—and her slender body felt so good pulled flush against his, and he was really enjoying this—but Alice was going to walk in any second, so Kal forced himself to pull away. “Tomorrow night,” he whispered heatedly in her ear, and Lana nodded dumbly. Kal ducked into the back room and out the door to the alley; a few minutes later he was back at the farm, up in the loft, grinning like an idiot.

            “Hey, Lana,” Alice greeted, striding into the Talon. “I forgot to pick up my check today, and...” She trailed off as Lana looked at her with large, startled eyes. “Lana, is everything okay?”

            _I’m in love with your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. And he’s in love with me._ “Yeah, everything’s fine,” Lana assured her. When Alice’s expression remained skeptical, Lana gave her an embarrassed smile and added, “I think I just kind of creeped myself out, being here alone.”

            “Yeah, this place can get a little spooky at night,” Alice agreed, grabbing her check from the register. “Come on, let’s lock up and get out of here.” Lana nodded, quickly clearing away the two coffee cups on the counter and hoping Alice hadn’t noticed them.

            “Thought you’d be out all night with—what’s her name?” Clark asked good-naturedly from the couch where he was reading.

            “Ellen,” Kal supplied. He’d been feeding them some bulls—t all week about this girl he’d met from Grandville, nice girl, a couple of piercings, a couple of tattoos, penchant for motorcycles... “Got interrupted, unfortunately. Hey, can I borrow the truck tomorrow night?” He smirked. “Gotta make it up to her.”

            “In the back of the truck?” Clark shook his head. “You’re such a romantic, Kal. You want me to put some crushed beer cans back there for you, to really make it classy, or are you going to take care of that yourself?”

            Kal gave him a look. “Ha ha,” he shot back sarcastically. “If you really want to help, you could scrub the truck down, get rid of all the evidence of you and Alice back there...”

            Clark’s cheeks reddened a little and he flung a couch pillow at Kal, who ducked it easily. “Hey!” He was smirking when Kal looked at him again, though, and Kal wondered briefly—only briefly—if he should be feeling at all bad about impersonating Clark... Surely the truth was bound to come out—sooner, probably, instead of later—and there wouldn’t be any more easy, brotherly banter after _that_. But when people said that Kal lacked long-term planning skills—well, in that they were correct. And he didn’t really mind at all.

 

            “That’s incredible, Clark! I can’t even wrap my... mind around it...” Kal nodded soberly, turning away from Lana to stare pensively at the stars above them. “You have a twin brother. Wow.”

            She smiled a little, and Kal hurriedly cautioned her, “If you’re thinking it’d be really great, finding you had a twin—well, it isn’t. In my case, anyway.”

            Lana frowned from her perch on the edge of the truck. “What do you mean?”

            “I thought maybe Kal would know something about my—our—biological parents, you know?” Lana nodded. “Who they were. Why they gave us up. Why they _split_ us up. But he doesn’t.”

            Lana laid her hand on Kal’s flannel-covered arm. He’d had to go for plaid flannel tonight, given the temperature, although he couldn’t bear to look at his reflection in it. “Well, that’s not _his_ fault, Clark,” she pointed out gently.

            “I know, I know,” Kal agreed. “It’s just disappointing. But the other thing about Kal is...” He trailed off ominously.

            “What?” Lana encouraged. Kal frowned, shook his head, appeared reluctant. “Clark, you can tell me,” she assured him, leaning closer. “You can trust me.”

            Kal turned back to her, eyes wide. “I know I can trust you, Lana,” he stated firmly. “And that means a lot to me.” She smiled, pleased with his response. “The thing about Kal is... there’s something not right about him,” he answered quietly.

            Lana blinked her almond-shaped eyes. “What do you mean?”

            “I mean...” Kal appeared to struggle for words. “I think the people who raised him—I think they weren’t like my folks. They weren’t as... He wasn’t as lucky as I was. I think they didn’t treat him very well, and... I just don’t think he’s a good person, Lana!” The last part was said with a little more force than Kal intended, and he pulled away from Lana to pace a little in front of the truck’s gate. In the middle of Baker’s Field they were surrounded by darkness for miles, with only the stars and moon lighting them from above.

            “What do you mean, not a good person?” Lana asked tentatively.

            “I mean he’s dangerous,” Kal explained quickly, not looking at her. “He’s devious. He does whatever he wants without thinking about other people, without thinking that other people could get hurt. Or, I guess, without _caring_ that they could get hurt.” _Calm down, there,_ he told himself, as he practically wore a hole in the grass. _Don’t go all Method on me._

            Lana hopped down off the truck and stopped his pacing. “Clark... like you said, he wasn’t raised the same way you were.” She smiled and pulled herself closer, brushing the buttons of his shirt. “If he’s related to you, I’m sure he’s a good person, deep inside.”

            _I know what I’d like to be deep inside._ “I don’t know, Lana... I mean, he just randomly appears in town whenever he wants, causes trouble sometimes, expects me to drop everything and come running after him...”

            “And you do,” she pointed out, with a smile.

            “I do,” he agreed with a helpless shrug.

            “He’s your brother,” Lana supplied firmly. “Clark, I’m the first person to say that biological ties aren’t the only thing that makes a family.” He knew she was thinking of the man buried in the cemetery who gave her his name but not his genes... although since she was all of _three_ when he was flattened by a meteorite, Kal really didn’t know why the h—l she was so attached to him. “But when you find those ties, you can’t ignore them. Even if the person isn’t exactly who you wanted them to be.” Profound words, Kal decided. If you didn’t consider that _now_ she was thinking of Henry Small, who was disappointing to her because he preferred fighting for lost causes instead of hugging.

            He smiled gently down at her. She was close enough that he was really going to get a crick in his neck if they stayed here long. “I never thought about it that way before, Lana,” he told her, taking her hands in his own. “I guess you’re right.” She smiled brightly. Kal estimated that about seventy percent of Clark was all in Lana’s head—as long as he said what she _expected_ him to say, what she _wanted_ him to say, she’d never notice if something didn’t make sense.

            Suddenly she pulled away and walked back to the truck--but her hips swayed invitingly and the smile she turned on him was playful. “So if Kal is your identical twin,” she asked, “how do I know that you’re not him?”

            Kal fought to keep a very un-Clark-like smirk from exploding onto his face. “Well, we _do_ look almost exactly alike,” he confirmed, wandering back towards her, “but I think you’d know the difference by our behavior.” He helped her back up onto the edge of the truck. “I mean—Kal is... rude and volatile and—he swears _all the time_.”

            Lana laughed at the prim face he made. “So if you started punching people and cursing like sailor... I’d know it was really Kal, huh?”

            “Something like that,” Kal answered, struggling to keep himself in character.

            “But Kal doesn’t know me like _you_ do, Clark,” Lana continued, more seriously, lifting a hand to his collar. _I don’t even need to talk,_ Kal decided, amazed. _She’ll practically do this herself._ “Kal doesn’t know about all the times you’ve been there for me, all the things we’ve talked about...”

            If she were a totally different person, Kal might suspect Lana was very subtly testing his identity. Since she was, however, _Lana_ , Kal knew she was more likely testing his devotion, via recall of _her_ important life moments. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, holding her gaze, “Kal wouldn’t know how you used to go to the cemetery to talk about things with your parents. Or about your best friend Emily, who died when you were ten.” _And then came back as a homicidal clone. Best not to mention that part._ “He wouldn’t know that you used to wear a piece of the meteorite that killed your parents around your neck.” _G-d, Lana is so morbid. She’s more Goth than Alice. Pick some lighter moments._ “Or that your first attempt in the coffee service industry ended after just one day.” They both smiled at the memory of her disastrous waitressing job at the Beanery. “Or that you wanted to save the Talon from demolition because it was where your parents met, during _Close Encounters of the Third Kind_.” _I wonder, did she have to b—w Lex to get him to invest?_ “Or that you... grew apart from Whitney, but you never told him because you didn’t want to break his heart.” He wondered if he had successfully named enough events yet.

            “I’ve only grown closer to you, Clark,” Lana breathed, her lips just inches away from Kal’s.

            Which wasn’t even true, but Kal had a little profundity he’d been saving up. “Sometimes you have to get farther away from people, to realize how close you really are.” _Thank you, Mr. Chow’s China Bowl._ Lana smiled a little, no doubt thinking how brilliant Clark was because he had managed some vague parallelism, and then her chocolatey gaze dropped to Kal’s lips. He waited, held himself back, let her do the leaning, until he felt her lips brush his again. _D—n strawberry lipgloss_. Again. Couldn’t people put more _natural_ scents and flavors in those things? A moment later, though, Kal had delved past the superficial, artificial strawberries, to the ever-present coffee, down to a flavor that was warm and sweet and oddly enough slightly nutty, pure essence of Lana, and _d—n_ if the taste and the smell, the feel of her slim body under his (locked in safe zones) hands, the little gasping sounds she made when he trailed his lips down her throat didn’t make him as him giddy and light-headed as Clark’s best wet dream. _Oh. Yeah._

 

            Clark just had the feeling that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t like him to be pessimistic, but things had just been going so _well_ lately, he felt like any second something terrible ought to happen to balance it out—some new meteor mutant, or another sleazy acquaintance/antagonist of Lex’s from Metropolis, or an ultimatum from Jor-El, or even just Kal raising a little h—l.

            “My grandma would say you’re as jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs,” Alice teased him as they lay on the couch in the loft, ostensibly doing their English homework. Even for people with superpowers, though, it was a little difficult to do your homework with it sitting on the table six feet away. And the book closed.

            Clark shook his dark head. “I don’t know,” he sighed, leaning against the back of the couch.


End file.
